Symphony Preview: Nurturing nature with the St. Louis Symphony November 11-13, 2015

Beethoven, naturally
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Quick question: without looking out of a window or using Google, do you know what phase the moon is in tonight? If the answer is "no," don't feel bad; thanks to the ubiquity of electric light, most of us have lost our connection to the moon and stars. Indeed, a nearly complete disconnect from the natural world is both the blessing and the curse of the late 20th and early 21st centuries.

Back when most of the music we now call "classical" was written, though, nature was much more a part of everyday life. So it's hardly surprising that many of the great composers drew inspiration from the natural world.

This weekend, David Robertson and the St. Louis Symphony will offer two prime examples of that inspiration, beginning with Beethoven's "Symphony No. 6 in F major, op. 68" ("Pastoral"). With its five movements depicting, sometimes with surprising realism, scenes of country life, the symphony is filled with the joy Beethoven experienced wandering through the woods around Vienna. "How glad I am to be able to roam in wood and thicket, among the trees and flowers and rocks," he once wrote in a letter. "No one can love the country as I do...my bad hearing does not trouble me here. In the country every tree seems to speak to me, saying ‘Holy! Holy!’ In the woods there is enchantment which expresses all things."

It's common to think of the 6th as a kind of gentler respite from the more dynamic "Symphony No. 5", but the fact is that Beethoven worked on both of them simultaneously and even premiered them together in Vienna on December 22, 1808 in a four-hour concert that included the "Piano Concerto No. 4" and the "Choral Fantasy". Writing in The Guardian, Tom Service suggests that, in fact, the 6th is the far more radical of the two symphonies, creating "a new kind of symphonic rhetoric in the Pastoral, a universe in which lulling repetition rather than teleological development is what defines the structure, on the small and large-scales, and in which the patterns, continuities, and disturbances of the natural world that Beethoven knew (above all in music’s most violent storm, up to this point of world history, in the Pastoral’s fourth movement!) are transmuted into the discourse of a five-movement symphony."

Richard Strauss at age 74, photographed in his garden
at his country home at Garmisch-Partenkirchen,
Germany, in 1938
en.wikipedia.org

And, let's face it, he has a point. Parts of the symphony are almost minimalist in their simplicity while others, like the fourth movement's thunderstorm, have a cinematic vividness. It's music that is both abstract and descriptive. Beethoven even provided descriptive titles for each movement, but then hedged his bets by describing it as "more the expression of feeling than painting." "Regardless of Beethoven's declared intentions," wrote Christopher H. Gibbs for the Philadelphia Orchestra in 2006, "this music seems to function on both descriptive and expressive levels, therein fueling arguments about the issue ever since his time."

Nature imagery also pervades the other big work on the program this week, Richard Strauss's "Four Last Songs," written when the composer was 84 and contemplating his mortality. With texts by Hermann Hesse and the 19th-century poet Joseph von Eichendorff, the songs all deal with death in one way or another, but they do so in a way that is ultimately very life affirming. That's most obvious in the first song, "Frühling " ("Spring"), with its images of new life springing from a dream of "dämmrigen Grüften" ("shadowy crypts"), but there's a sense throughout the piece that death is not to be feared, but to be accepted and even embraced.

"O weiter, stiller Friede! / So tief im Abendrot. / Wie sind wir wandermüde-- / Ist dies etwa der Tod?" So run the final lines of the last song, "Im Abendrot" ("At sunset"). There are many translations out there, but I like this one by Robin Wallace: "What broad and silent peacefulness / In evening’s final breath. / How tired we are of wandering. / Might this perhaps be death?" Strauss includes a quote from his own youthful tone poem "Death and Transfiguration" under that last line. The quote is the "transfiguration" theme, suggesting that death is by no means the end, and might actually be the start of another journey.

Death is also lurking in the background of Anton Webern's "Six Pieces for Orchestra," Op. 6, which begins the second half of this weekend's concerts. Written in 1909 after the death of the composer's mother, this remarkably concise suite (it runs around thirteen minutes) consists of five very short movements (a minute or so each), flanking a funeral march that's as long as all the other movements put together. As a result, that fourth movement—marked Langsam ("slow") (marcia funebre)—packs a much stronger emotional punch than it would have as part of a longer and more expansive work.

Anton Webern in Stettin, October 1912
en.wikipedia.org

Essentially, Webern's suite takes all of the overheated yearning of late nineteenth century music and triple-distills it into the aural equivalent of Everclear. "What Mahler writes with an eternal melody," observes Zubin Mehta in a 2013 interview for the Arte television network, "Webern writes with three or four notes." It's both a reaction to and a reflection of the great orchestral edifices erected by Mahler and Strauss.

Webern's death is an especially poignant one, by the way. On September 15, 1945, the composer was living in Mittersill, Austria, which was under Allied occupation. "Webern was going outside to smoke a cigar while a sting operation was being carried out to arrest his son-in-law Benno Mattel, a former SS-member and black market operative," writes blogger Michael Stein. "Raymond Norwood Bell, company cook from North Carolina, was one of the soldiers participating in the action. Hearing some noises outside the room they were holding Mattel in, Bell went to investigate and apparently bumped into the composer and fired three shots. Bell later stated that he had been attacked. Ten years after the incident Bell died of acute alcoholism attributed to the guilt he felt over what had happened."

Webern's last words were, "it's over."

The essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, with soprano Christine Goerke, on Friday and at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., November 13-15. The program features Beethoven's Symphony No. 6 ("Pastoral"), Webern's Six Pieces for Orchestra, and Richard Strauss's Four Last Songs. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Beer and pretzels

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ward Stare
What: Music of Brahms, Webern, Johann Strauss Jr., and Richard Strauss
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: April 19 and 20, 2013

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As I have noted before, Ward Stare (who completed his tenure as Resident Conductor of the symphony in 2012 and is now in demand as both and operatic and symphonic conductor) is someone to watch.

The clarity of his communication with the orchestra and the intensity of his focus are impressive, as is his very visceral style on the podium. Like David Robertson, he physically throws himself into the music, although never in a showy or distracting way.

All of those characteristics were on display Friday as he conducted the symphony in a wonderfully balanced program of German music spanning the tumultuous period from the late 1860s to the early 1900s. At one end of the time line we had Johann Strauss Jr.’s 1867 “Artist’s Life” waltz, and at the other a suite from that hallucinatory tribute to Vienna, Richard Strauss’s “Rosenkavalier” (1909-1910). In between was a pair of echt Teutonic choral works by Brahms—“Gesang der Parzen (Song of the Fates)” from 1882 and “Schicksalslied (Song of Destiny)” from 1868-1871, bracketing Webern’s lushly romantic “Im Sommerwind (In the Summer Breeze)” from 1904.

It was, in short, a well-chosen mix of drama, romance, and irresistible dance rhythms. There was even, in the Webern, some perky humor (which one does not normally associate with Webern).

In a somewhat unorthodox move, Mr. Stare elected to perform the first three works on the program—“Gesang der Parzen,” “Im Sommerwind,” and “Schicksalslied”—without breaks for applause in between, as though they were three movements of a single piece. That might seem odd, given that nearly forty years separates the oldest work from newest, but in practice it made great emotional sense. Webern wrote “Sommerwind” when he was 21, before being seduced by Serialism, so it looks backward to the romanticism of the mid-19th century, while the Brahms works are rather forward looking in their harmonies. The resulting juxtaposition highlighted their similarities more than their differences.

This was most apparent in the “Schicksalslied.” The serenity of its opening section, with lyrics describing “the paradisiacal existence of the deities” (to quote Paul Schiavo’s program notes), seemed to flow logically from the shimmering, Richard Straussian languor of “Sommerwind”. The parallel is emphasized by the references in the lyrics to “gleaming breezes divine” (“Glänzende Götterlüfte”) and “sacred harp strings” (“Heilige Saiten).” The contrast between the idyllic world of the Webern and the rather medieval fatalism of the reflections on the indifference of the gods in “Gesang der Parzen” (“O Fortuna,” anyone?) was also very effective. As an old radio guy, I suppose I’m a bit of a sucker for the ingenious segue, but I really think this was an exceptionally smart bit of programming on Mr. Stare’s part.

It has been decades since “Schicksalslied” and “Im Sommerwind” were performed at Powell (“Gesang der Parzen” was a symphony premiere) so this music was probably unfamiliar to most of the musicians. You wouldn’t have known that, though, from the quality of the performances. Amy Kaiser’s chorus sounded and robust and polished as usual and the many little solo passages sprinkled throughout the Webern were lovely. Principal Flautist Mark Sparks, Acting Co-Principal oboe Barbara Orland, Principal bassoon Andrew Cuneo, and Associate Concertmaster Heidi Harris all had chances to shine here. I also loved the way Mr. Stare drew out that final, ethereal chord in “Sommerwind” and held the silence for a few seconds.

The second half of the evening, suffused as it was with the spirit of the Viennese waltz, offered a nice contrast to the philosophical weight of the first half. I was reminded that one of the many things Mr. Stare and Mr. Robertson have in common is their willingness to accord “light” music like the “Artist’s Life” waltz the same respect as the more heavy-duty stuff. He gave us a lilting and nuanced performance that felt just right.

The closing suite from Richard Strauss’s romantic comedy/drama “Rosenkavalier” was impressive as well, from the exceptionally dramatic reading of the opening Con molto agitato, graphically depicting the exuberant and perhaps overly fast love-making of the young page Octavian (with those jubilant horn yelps flawlessly played by Roger Kaza and company), to the final “fast waltz” (Schneller Walzer, Molto Con Moto), in which Baron Ochs gets his comeuppance, this was a wonderfully paced and impeccably played performance.

Although scored for a large orchestra, the suite contains many moments of intimacy that provide multiple opportunities for individual players to take center stage. Those included, once again, Mr. Sparks, Mr. Cuneo, and Ms. Harris (who got a big hug from Mr. Stare), as well as Principal clarinet Scott Andrews, the ever-reliable Peter Henderson on celesta, Associate Principal cello Melissa Brooks, Toronto Symphony Principal Trumpet Andrew McCandless, and harpists Megan Stout and Claire Happel. The percussion section deserves a big pat on the back as well.

P.S.: because they are being so echt German, the symphony is providing free beer and pretzels at the concerts, courtesy of Anehuser-Busch and Companion, respectively. I passed on the Bud Light (insert "making love in a canoe" joke here), but the pretzel was tasty.

Next on the calendar: Friday, April 26, at 10:30 AM and 8 PM and Saturday, April 27, at 8 PM, Bernard Labadie conducts an all-Mozart program consisting of the 33rd and 40th symphonies and the Clarinet Concerto with Scott Andrews as soloist. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Electric shocks

Who: Pianist Yefim Bronfman and The St. Louis Symphony conducted by John Storgårds
What: Music of Bach/Webern, Schumann, and Brahms
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: November 2 and 3, 2012

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Yefim Bronfman at Carnegie Hall
Photo by Jennifer Taylor for The New York Times

There are few things I love more than hearing a familiar work from the standard concert repertoire—one I’ve heard dozens of times in the past—performed in a way that makes it sound fresh and new. That, for me, is great music making. And that’s what I heard from John Storgårds and the St. Louis Symphony in their dramatic and electrifying reading of Schumann’s Symphony No. 4. From the majestic introduction to the fiery finale, this was a Schumann Fourth that just crackled with energy and theatricality.

The Chief Conductor of the Helsinki Philharmonic, Mr. Storgårds is a big man with an expansive but precise style at the podium. This does not, however, appear to be the self-conscious theatricality of (say) a Stokowski but rather the result of a passionate commitment to and intense concentration on this music itself.

This serves him well in both of the other works on this weekend’s program, the Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2 and Webern’s typically kaleidoscopic orchestration of the great six-part fugue (the Ricercata) from Bach’s Musical Offering.

There’s an interesting story behind that fugue. Bach wrote it on, essentially, a dare from Frederick the Great of Prussia. At a meeting in 1747, the king presented Bach with a long and highly chromatic theme (supposedly his own, although he may have lifted it from Handel) and challenged him to use it as the subject for a three-voice fugue. A skilled improviser, Bach did so on the spot, at which point the king, in what might have been an attempt to teach this wise guy a lesson, upped the ante to a six-voice fugue. Two months later Bach replied with his Musical Offering—two ricercars, ten canons, and (for good measure) a sonata all based on that theme. Game, set, and match.

The king’s reaction has been lost to posterity.

Anton Webern’s orchestration from nearly two centuries later raised the ante even further by making this mid-18th century piece sound entirely new. An advocate of Klangfarbenmelodie—the practice of breaking a melodic line up and distributing it to individual instruments a few notes at a time—Webern shattered and re-assigned the individual voices in ways that sound the way a kaleidoscope looks.

The result can be disorienting but makes for fascinating listening. The rapid shifts in instrumental color are nearly hallucinatory at times and must pose a stiff challenge to the players. There’s no place to hide here; every note must be perfect and every entrance precise. Friday night’s performance was stunning in its precision and a credit to all concerned.

Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 2 poses substantial difficulties of its own, at least for the soloist. A pianist of no mean skill, Brahms wrote the piece for himself, and even he acknowledged its technical difficulty when he referred to it (somewhat jokingly) as “the long terror”. It’s not the sort of piece a pianist takes on lightly.

If you’re a regular listener to Public Radio International’s Symphonycast, you know that Yefim Bronfman unquestionably has the chops for this music. His performance with Sir Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic (still available as a podcast for a limited time at the Symphonycast web site is nothing if not impressive. His performance Friday night was no less spectacular. He handled the most demanding passages with ease, but the reading of the concerto overall felt less compelling than I had hoped. The excitement of the Schumann wasn’t there for me, although the Andante third movement was truly lovely.

I don’t want to make too much of that, though. This is, after all, a matter of taste and it might sound entirely different to you. The orchestral playing was, without a doubt, of its usual high caliber, with an especially beautiful cello and oboe duet from Daniel Lee and Peter Bowman in the third movement. And there’s no question that Mr. Bronfman fully deserved his standing ovation.

The next regular season concert combines Mozart’s Requiem with Schoenberg’s Freude auf Erden (Peace on Earth) and Haydn’s D major Cello concerto. Jun Märkl conducts with Daniel Lee as the soloist in the Haydn. Performances are Friday and Saturday at 8 and Sunday at 3, November 9th through 11th. For more information: stlsymphony.org.